


unuaj impresoj

by Halbeary



Category: Blue Beetle (Comics), Booster Gold (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 15:54:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12172062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halbeary/pseuds/Halbeary
Summary: where ted gathers some valuable data and maybe even falls a teeny bit in love





	unuaj impresoj

Ted likes to think that he’s a patient man.

His stomach growls. Ted clutches at it with a justified grumble.

 _Then again_ , he concedes _,_ _all of his admirable qualities have to have limits._

“Boost,” he whines as he leans back against a precarious tower of books. “I thought you wanted to get some food. Can’t we do this, like, later?”

That ridiculous mane of perfect blonde hair pops over the top of one of the shelves. _Tall bastard_ , Ted thinks. _Totally unfair_. Booster’s eyes are wide and excited, face slightly flushed like he just had an invigorating workout right here in the middle of this second-hand, old-timey bookstore in the middle of downtown Paris.

“But there’s so _many_ of them.”

Ted raises an eyebrow. “What? _Books?_ ”

Booster nods and his hair flops back and forth like a puppy wagging its tail. Ted raises his eyebrow even further.

“Well.. yeah. It’s a _book_ store.” He tilts his head to the side. “Don’t they have those in the future?” He taps his chin with a finger. “I guess that would explain that weirdly intense moment you had with the magazine rack at the airport.”

Booster narrows his eyes, but his excitement doesn’t falter.

“You don’t understand! Books are, like, _super_ rare in the 25th century.” Ted watches as he rifles through a well-worn paperback with an exceedingly gentle touch. “I only ever saw one _once_ , and that was at a museum that we went to for a school trip.”

Ted feels his frustration slipping as he scoots forward to watch Booster run his fingers along one of the pages. There’s something about the soft, awe-filled expression on his face that makes Ted forget about how hungry he is. He crosses his arms across his chest and leans against one of the bookshelves with a small smile.

“Well, why don’t you get one?”

Booster’s eyes go wide.

“What?!” He glances down at whatever book he’s holding. “There’s no way I can afford one of these!”

Ted blinks. “Boost, these are all, like, two dollars each. Five, tops.”

Booster blinks in surprise. “But that’s as much as a coffee!” He gestures around him, book still in his hand. “These are made out of _trees_ , Ted. Do you know how valuable a _tree_ is in the future? How few of them are le–” he cuts himself off to rub at the back of his head. “Actually, I probably shouldn’t tell you that.”

He points at a stunned Ted with the book. “The point is, these should be worth a lot more. They should be, uh..” he frowns, glances around him “.. _konservis_?” He narrows his eyes, and then snaps his fingers. “Treasured!” He glances at a teetering stack of used romance novels in despair. “Not treated like–” he starts pushing the corners of the stack together “– this!”

Ted pinches the bridge of his nose as Booster aligns the books until they’re neat and orderly. “Boost, I don’t know what to tell you. You can’t change the past, right?”

Booster glances at him and shrugs. “Uh.. unclear?”

Ted rolls his eyes. He still can’t quite believe someone who knows as little about time travel as Booster does managed to find the right year, let alone even _start_ a time machine.

“Well, books are already on their way out. All this–” he knocks on the side of one of the shelves “– is being slowly replaced by tablets and e-readers, so.” He glances at Booster who’s staring at the book in his hands with that helpless look in his eyes again, thumb sifting through the pages in the corner in a way that makes Ted’s throat feel tight all of a sudden. “So, uh, don’t think there’s much you can do about it, buddy. Sorry.”

Booster just nods and, very carefully, sets the book back on the top of the pile. “Yeah, you’re right. It just–” he runs a hand through his hair and shrugs “– feels like a waste.”

Ted stares at him helplessly. “Yeah, I get it.”

Booster takes a deep breath and throws him a small grin that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “Ok, so– food?” He starts to head towards the shop exit. Ted glances at the slumped slope of his shoulders, back to the pile of books, back to his shoulders.

“Uh, yeah. It’s just across the street. I’ll be there in a sec, just gotta– do something.”

Booster throws up one of his hands in acknowledgement and scoots out the door with a quiet jingling noise.

 

……

 

“Alright, one _croque monsieur pour moi_ –” he hands Booster the slightly soggy container “– and one ratatouille for the blasphemous vegan.”

Booster sticks his tongue out at him. “That waiter looked at me like I was a stain on his perfectly-pressed shirt.”

Ted grins. “You’re in the cheese capital of the world, _mon ami_.” He pats Booster arm and gestures to the crowded street behind them. “Not eating their delicious food is a grave offence. Many-a-heads were lopped off for less.”

Booster raises and eyebrow critically, like he’s not believing Ted’s blatant bullshitting, and leans back against the railing. The sunlight catches on the tips of his hair; Ted almost wishes he had sunglasses.

“It’s not like I don’t _want_ to have cheese,” Booster starts, sniffing at his takeout box suspiciously. “A burger was the first thing I tried when I landed here. One bite and I was sick for days.” Booster pouts at him and rubs his stomach. “ _Days_ , Ted.”

Ted grimaces and pats his shoulder sympathetically. “There’s probably some digestive enzyme that you can take if you ever want to experience the finer foods in life.”

Booster fake gags. “That is literally the least appetizing thing I have ever heard.” He pats his takeout box. “No, I’ll just stick with.. whatever this is.” He tucks the takeout box under his arm, and then his eyes light up. “Oh yeah! I saw a sign for a park on the way here. Can we eat there?”

Ted eyes his croque monsieur longingly, and then makes the mistake of looking at Booster’s face; the one that’s giving him the most ridiculous puppy dog eyes he’s ever seen. _That’s going to be a problem_. Ted’s chest squeezes and he lets out a sigh.

“Sure,” he relents, gesturing for Booster to move in front of him. “Lead the way, Marty.”

“How do you get _Marty_ from _Booster?_ ”

 

……

 

Ten minutes of explaining why _Back to the Future_ is the second greatest time travel movie of all time later, and with a promise to show Booster the _first_ greatest time travel movie at the soonest possible convenience, they hit the gate entrance to the park, and Ted almost runs into Booster as he halts mid-step.

Later, Ted wishes he had snapped a picture of this moment– the one where Booster’s whole face lights up in a sort of childlike wonder, mouth parting in a silent gasp.

“ _Wowzer_.”

Ted drags his eyes away from Booster’s face to gaze out over the park. It’s nothing special. Sure, it’s _big_ , but it’s mostly just grass. Grass, and some scattered trees. Someone is flying a kite above them, a bright yellow dragon that makes Ted smile. A vendor is set up a ways down the path, selling crêpes filled with that looks like every dessert food imaginable. A warm breeze ruffles the tips of his hair and Ted tilts his head back to feel the sun on his face.

It’s nice here– peaceful and calm, a welcome contrast to their hectic day job. Ted glances back towards Booster, only to find him missing. He blinks and spins around.

 _Ah, there_. He lets Booster’s shiny mop of blonde hair act like a homing beacon and jogs over to the closest tree. Ted leans against the trunk, arms cross over his chest as he looks down at his traveling companion; the one currently kneeling in the grass and running his fingers through the neatly trimmed vegetation with a ridiculous smile on his face. Ted slumps down at the base of the tree and digs in his tote bag for his sandwich.

“It everything you ever dreamed of?” Ted teases.

Booster grins at him, then stands up and gestures around him wildly with a dramatic spin. “It’s so _green!_ ”

Ted takes a bite of his croque monsieur and tries not to audibly moan at how good it is. He glances up at Booster with a bemused purse of his lips.

“That’s generally what happens when you have a lot of plants in one area,” he responds dryly.

Booster spins back towards him, opens his mouth to tell him something ridiculous, Ted’s sure– like _there’s no plants in the future, Ted!_ Or _in the 2400s plants are sentient and have taken control of the Earth_ – and then his eyes dart to the tree trunk behind him and he _gasps_ with delight instead. Ted leans to his right as Booster presses his face inches away from the worn bark, taking another bite of his sandwich as he watches Booster with blatant curiosity.

“Okay, I _know_ you’ve seen a tree before.”

Those big blue eyes pop up from where they had been studying the bark with rapt fascination. Booster glances back to the tree, back to Ted, and then rubs at the back of his head with a shameless shrug and a lopsided smile.

“Not the tree– ants!” Booster says as he flops next to Ted so close that their thighs brush together. Ted has a theory that ideas of personal space must be a bit lax in the future, because Booster seems to always find an excuse to put a hand on his back or lean into his shoulder. _Or maybe he's just an affectionate guy,_ Ted thinks. What's surprising is how Ted doesn't actually _mind_. If anything, it just adds to Booster’s charm.

Ted passes Booster his take-out and takes another bite of his lunch. For some absurd, inexplicable reason, he finds himself waiting to see what will _wowzer_ Booster next. His reactions are just so.. _genuine_.

 _It’s refreshing,_ Ted reasons, _to hang out with someone so unabashedly sincere_.

Booster thumbs open the container after a moment of fiddling and Ted watches his eyes go wide for the hundredth time in the last hour. Ted tries not to feel like too much of a voyeur as he eats another mouthful of sandwich and eyes Booster expectantly.

It’s not everyday he gets to see someone get bewildered by a box full of mushy vegetables.

The plastic spork dips into the neatly arranged pattern of multicolored vegetables, and then hesitantly enters Booster’s mouth. Ted waits as he appears to be processing, and then–

“ _Mm!_ It’s good!”

Ted grins as Booster tucks into his meal with the same fervor he used to see children at his elementary school employ, barely taking time to swallow as he scoops up mouthful after mouthful. He passingly wonders if that’s how everyone eats in the future; if everyone’s too busy with their augmented reality headsets and jetpacks to take the time to properly enjoy food.

 _Though_ , Ted muses, _given what Booster’s told me about future food, maybe they just try to get it over with as quickly as possible._

Booster catches him staring and blinks. “What?”

 _He has little freckles on his nose_ , Ted observes, and then he blinks and feels his face grow hot. _What the hell._

“Nothing.” He shoves his sandwich back into his mouth. _Okay, Theodore– that’s enough creepily staring at people you’re trying to befriend_. He sees Booster frown in his peripheral vision, scratching at the side of his neck before taking another sporkful of ratatouille, slower this time. Ted scrambles for a distraction.

“So, anything else missing in the future that you want to cross off your bucket list?” Ted asks a little too quickly, fingers tapping against the back of his sandwich wrapper.

Booster side-eyes him and takes another bite of his food. He swallows. “ _Bucket list?_ ”

Ted swallows his mouthful. “Uh,” he hesitates. “Like, a list of things you want to see?” He knocks his knuckles on the tree trunk behind him. “Stuff you couldn’t get back home.”

He sees Booster’s eyes light up in that look he gets when he understands some 21st century reference, and then he lolls his head back against the tree.

“Yeah, a few things.” Booster looks at him with a thoughtful _hum_. “I don’t know if I should tell you, though.” He waves his hand with a haughty motion. “Important, timeline-affecting knowledge and all that.”

Ted raises an eyebrow. “What,” he deadpans, “like how the future doesn’t have _trees?_ Or insects? Or meat products, or about _World War Three_ , or–”

Booster laughs and knocks his knee against Ted’s. “Okay, okay. You’ve made your point.” He shoulders shrug in a nonchalant way. “I’m not great at keeping secrets. Michelle always said–”

He cuts himself off with a frown. Ted watches him stuff another bite into his mouth, curiosity piqued.

“.. Michelle?”

Booster swallows and hunches over ever-so-slightly. “Uh, my sister.” He sounds.. resigned. “Twin, actually.”

Ted blinks. “Oh.”

He can tell he hit a sore spot, because the dimples on Booster’s face are less pronounced, fading more by the second. Ted gently nudges his shoulder.

“.. what did she used to say?”

Booster’s still staring at the toes of his sneakers. He glances at Ted’s sandwich for a minute with a faraway look, and then quirks his lips.

“She always said that I had a _malferma vizaĝo,”_ he says with a fond lilt to his voice. He rolls the _r_ in a way that makes Ted stare at the pronounced bob of his adam’s apple. Booster rubs his chin and glances at him. “Uh, like a- an honest face.” He grins with that same helpless little shrug from before. “I can’t hide anything.”

Ted laughs. _Like that wasn’t already readily apparent._ He pokes Booster in the arm. “You’re what we cavemen call an _open book_.”

Booster purses his lips again and then his whole face lights up as he sets his empty container down and wipes at the back of his mouth. “Uh huh,” he agrees, and then points at him accusingly. “You’re supposed to be a superhero, so you can’t use this weakness of mine against me. It would be, like..” he taps his lips with a finger “.. immoral.”

Ted holds his hands up defensively. “I’ll try to resist prying you for information, even if I _could_ learn the formula for interstellar travel in a round of twenty questions.”

Booster tilts his head up and puts a hand on his chest. “Thank you.”

The conversation fades to a comfortable lull as Ted finishes up his sandwich. He finds his gaze drifting towards Booster again, wondering what mundane thing he’ll find new and exciting next. _Maybe I should take him to the zoo_ , Ted muses. _That would probably blow his mind._

He finishes his sandwich and crumples up the tinfoil wrapper, opens up his tote to toss it inside when he remembers the small object resting innocently at the bottom. Ted scoops it up, stomach churning nervously all of a sudden. _Maybe he shouldn’t give it to him. Is it weird?_ But then he remembers Booster’s _face_ and the way his eyes had lit up, and the absurdly endearing way he’d carefully straightened the pile and–

“Oh, hey– here.” He hands Booster the paperback before he can second guess himself. “I, uh, got this for you.”

Booster’s eyes do that _thing_ again, get that awed, enraptured look as he carefully accepts the worn-looking book. It’s pages are curled on the corners, there’s some scribbles on the sides like someone’s kid got overzealous with the markers, and even some illegible note scribbled on the inside cover, but when Ted had seen it on the shelf he knew that he _had_ to get it.

Long fingers turn the book around to reveal the cover. “ _Dune?_ ” Booster asks, thumb brushing along its spine like it’s something more than just a two euro used novel. Ted scratches at the back of his neck, face feeling hot for some reason.

“Yeah, just something I read when I was a kid. I was _obsessed_ with it.” Booster thumbs through the pages, thumb dragging down the corner of the worn paper with an exceedingly gentle touch. Ted clears his throat. “Thought it was about time you learned some proper culture _,”_ he tries to joke, voice unsteady.

Booster looks up at him from under his long blonde eyelashes, eyes flickering between his own like he’s searching for something, and then he swallows, clutching the book to his chest protectively.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, tone serious and intense. His hand reaches out to squeeze Ted’s arm. Ted fights down the sudden hysteric sensation in his chest, briefly wondering how this moment became so deep.

Ted can’t seem to look away, gaze trapped in Booster’s own. “It was only, like, three dollars,” he says helplessly.

Booster sighs wistfully, eyes lingering over the cityscape in the distance. “In the future I could sell this and be a millionaire.” He tilts his head and taps his chin with a finger. “It’s like– Van Gogh with his paintings. No one appreciated them while he was making them, but as time passed they became more valuable, you know?” Ted watches as he scratches at the back of his neck and laughs under his breath. “Not that these are the same, but–” he shrugs and smiles at Ted, warm and open in a way that makes his dimples particularly pronounced. “It means a lot to a guy like me.”

Ted stares for a minute, uncomfortable with the way his chest has started to twinge every time he sees those stupid perfect dimples. _Okay, Teddy. Reel it back in._

“Well,” he starts, tossing his sandwich wrapper in the air and catching it with a feigned nonchalance, “I’m only giving it to you because your pop culture references are embarrassingly outdated.”

Booster scoffs. “They are _not_.” He pokes Ted in the arm. “I was a history major in college, thank you very much.” He puts his hand over his chest. “I _know_ things.”

Ted tosses the wrapper at him and snickers when it hits him smack in the forehead. “Name _one_ musician that’s popular in this decade.”

Booster tosses the wrapper back at him and Ted dodges forward to let it sail over his head. “Um, Elvis,” he says with an air of superiority. “ _Duh_.”

“That was, like, _thirty_ _years ago_ , dude,” Ted groans. “Oh my god, I can’t be seen hanging around a guy who listens to _Elvis_.” He pushes himself to his feet with an overly-dramatic flourish and grabs his tote.

“Wha–!” Booster grabs his arm and squeezes, something panicked in his voice. “Wait, you’re leaving?”

Ted reaches for his takeout box and tosses it into his tote so he can throw it away later. He’s about to draw out the act for longer, storm off in a huff, but something about the way Booster’s looking at him with such an open, vulnerable expression makes him roll his eyes instead, place his hand in the middle of Booster’s back, and lightly shove him in the direction of the exit.

“ _We’re_ leaving. You have to update your tune collection, my man, and lucky for you I got Stevie’s new album a brand new Denon DCD back in the Bug.” He wiggles his eyebrows up and down. “It has a super linear converter, a four times over digital filter, and–” he pauses for dramatic effect “– a _remote control._ ”

He waits for Booster to look impressed. Booster raises an eyebrow and shakes his head. “Oh yeah, you people and your _CDs_. How..” he waves his hand vaguely and purses his lips “.. quaint.”

“ _Quaint!_ ” Ted says incredulously. “That thing cost me eight hundred bucks, pal. There’s nothing _quaint_ about it.”

Booster just laughs and pries his hand from Ted’s arm to gesture for him to lead the way. Ted swings the tote over his shoulder and glances at Booster out of the corner of his eye as he rubs his opposite arm with his palm. He looks _relieved_ , Ted realises.

Ted’s struck, suddenly, by how utterly _alone_ Booster is in this time. He’s heard tale of some kind of marketing team, and there’s the rest of the League, but other than that? _Does he have any friends here?_ Ted wonders, chewing on his bottom lip as he swings the metal gate open and lets Booster through first. From what Ted can tell, Booster spends most of his time just hanging around the League HQ waiting to be sent on a mission.

 _Not_ , Ted concedes as he stops and waits for Booster to be done inspecting a newspaper kiosk, _that I’m much different._ Ever since his scheming, jerk of a dad had taken Kord industries out from underneath him, it’s been nothing but R &D for him and his Bug. He doesn’t talk to his old colleagues anymore, except for Murray, and Murray’s as much of an isolated workaholic as he is.

 _Booster could be a good friend_ , he realises, watching the curve of Booster’s spine as he bends over to pet some old lady’s poodle with that megawatt smile. He likes Booster. The others at HQ might find his enthusiasm off-putting or fake, but if Ted learned anything from this outing, it’s that that’s just how Booster is; constantly giving one hundred and ten percent in all aspects of life, even if under all the skin-tight gold outfit he’s just a regular guy like him. A regular guy from four hundred and fifty or so years in the future, granted, but still essentially powerless unless _unrelenting charm_ is a super human quality.

 _Which,_ Ted acknowledges with a wry grin as the old woman practically swoons as Booster compliments her dog, _might actually be the case_.

Ted shifts forward against the fence. “Ready to go?”

Booster’s head snaps up at him at the same time as the poodle. Ted snorts and pushes off the fence to head down the sidewalk, waiting for Booster to catch up before crossing the street back to HQ. Booster tugs the book out from under his arm and starts to read the description on the back, mouth moving silently with every word. He bumps Booster’s shoulder with his own to get his attention. He feels nervous, all of a sudden, like, somehow, deciding that he should actively try to befriend Booster has made it five times as difficult.

“Uh, I can show you that movie after, if you want.”

“Hmm?” Booster glances up from the book. “Oh! The _first_ best time-travel movie.” He grins at him. “ _Star Trek_ , right? You said earlier.” He taps his nose smugly. “I do know that one, actually.”

“Even I knew that Star Trek would make it all the way to the 25th century,” Ted says. “It’s a classic.”

Booster laughs and carefully tucks the book back under his arm. “Uh huh. It’s in all the history pads. I read about it in my Terran history class.”

Ted blinks and pauses in his step. “Wait– you’ve seen it, right? The show?”

Booster raises an eyebrow at him. “Ted, I’m from the 25th century. Why would I watch Star Trek when I could just order some Slyggian food from the place down the street?”

Ted groans. “Oh my god, we have our work cut out for us. No Star Trek, no Stevie Wonder– I bet you haven’t even seen _Alien_.”

“J’onn’s room is like, two floors up.”

Ted stares at him for a moment before grabbing his arm and physically tugging him towards the hangar bay. “That’s it, we’re not moving from in front of the TV until you’ve been properly indoctrinated into this time period.” He tugs open the door and pushes Booster through. “Hope you like popcorn, bud.”

“What’s that?”

“Ohhhhh my _god_.”

Maybe not so difficult.

**Author's Note:**

> the first best time travel movie is, of course, star trek IV: the voyage home


End file.
